Debt to a Mother
by ArcherofDarkness and Callie
Summary: The land is dying, and the Mother is taking back what was taken from her.Punishment falls not only to those who are deserving but among those innocents also.What will the Mother ask one young girl to give up, and what will the future hold for the Blood?
1. Default Chapter

Gray mist fell lovingly over the lands, a lover's caress. The land stirred slightly with the memory of life that was. It yawned into being to greet the dawn, then fell into the decay and rumble that had become its natural state. A young doe scurried out behind a bush, wobbling on weak knees into the center of the grove. There it stood still relishing in the beauty of life, trembling from all the splendors around her. She nosed the dew-wet grass curiously, and kicked up her hind legs in joy.

Suddenly a shudder ran from the land encasing the foal in a pinnacle of need, the doe arched her back and a scream of terror rose from her throat. The life force that beat within the young ones chest stopped as the body fell to the ground, dead. The land came to life with renewed strength, taking in the body and the energy the doe once possessed. In the place where the new life's body had lain, a single rose grew, its thorns and bud climbing; reaching for the sky.

The Mother was taking back what the Blood had stolen.

The blinds, which covered Jaenelle's sapphire orbs, bolted open and her hand leapt to her heart. "Mother Night."

Her body ached all over and it took her a moment to register her surroundings. The cavern walls were familiar despite her unaccustomed attachment towards them, and the male curled up in the corner was her Daemon. After the purging she had been so shattered, so disturbed, that for her survival the kindred brought her away from her troubles to heal; to this cave. Heal had taken so much time already and there would be so much more to come, but right now that's not what worried her. Something had happened. She could feel it calling to her very Self but she wouldn't, couldn't believe it.

In the corner the arched back stirred. Jaenelle bit her lip with sudden guilt; she had wakened her lover from his long deserved nap. He had been the one who stayed up with her through the night during the times of the worst pain, he was the one who held her when the nightmares gripped her, and he was the one who would love her and sacrifice everything for her until his death; and maybe not even then. The least she could do was let him rest, but maybe it was good that he woke for now she could confide in him, as she needed to do.

"Jaenelle? What is it, what's wrong?" His arm curled around her waist and a kiss was planted on her head.

Jaenelle- he still called her that, even though the Jaenelle he knew was long gone and Witch stood in her place. A smile spread across her lips at this bittersweet realization. "I'm not for sure, but something is terribly wrong. Don't you sense it?"

Daemon had gotten over the fact that his lovely Queen had far surpassed him, and the first resentment no longer burned, now he felt only pride in his young lovers accomplishments. His lips found their way to her head again, he made sure to keep his more urging needs under wraps, for she was not quite ready for that. "No. I only sense that you're worried and that's no good. How are you supposed to mend if you keep picking at your wounds?"

"It's the land, she is dieing." Jaenelle heard Daemon curse beneath his breath. She knew he hadn't wanted her to discover this, because he feared she'd try to do something about it. "It's more than that though, she is calling in her debt."

A shudder ran from the small, fragile, yet powerful thing in his arms, and passed through him leaving a sense of fear and worry. "What do you mean darling?"

"I mean all the power the Blood has used in greed she is taking back to heal herself." Jaenelle turned and her face was awash with new comprehension. "Only it's the innocents that are being harmed, she is killing them."

Daemon's senses perked and he quickly dropped to his Black, channeling this power to scan the inhabitants of the Hall. All was as it were. "Are you sure? I've heard of no disturbances, and all is fine at the Hall."

"That's because Kaeleer is not where the Mother needs strength, or at least not drastically. Terreille- Terreille… What should I do?"

Daemon shook her gently enough not to be threatening, but harsh enough to get her attention. "Nothing. You will do nothing. Let Terreille handle Terreille, you rest."

"But what about…"

"No!" His voice shook and she drew away, a hiss resounding into a growl. Softening his tone he tried to make her understand. "I just don't want to risk losing you again. You mean so much to me, I couldn't handle it if something happened to you. I love you, and I can't just…"

Jaenelle interrupted his sentimental speech with a soft kiss. Her lips pressed against his and her tongue flicked across his, which welcomed her. Round breast rose and fell against his chest warming the blood in his veins, and enticing him to take pleasure in that which he denied himself. Pushing her down gently, so that she lay into the soft mat that was her bed, he removed her shirt and teased the pink nipples that instantly became hard. Over come with his desire he kissed her roughly, savagely needing her supple lips, his hand traced down her abdomen seeking the triangle between her legs. That's when he felt her draw away, she wrapped herself within herself defensively denying him _her_.

Respectfully he halted his hand and softened his kiss. Then he pulled back completely seeing the fearful yet yearning look in her eyes. He gently kissed her one last time before wrapping the blanket up to his chin, and retreating to the entrance. Before he left he took one more lingering glance and noticed the pained expression in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and Daemon's heart broke at the sorrow in her voice. This guiltless innocent, sorry? Daemon couldn't stand for it, what _they_ had done to her could never be undone, but he would damn well try.

"Don't be, I love you and nothing will change that. I'm willing to wait I will always wait if that's your wish. Jaenelle." He headed out the entrance and into the chilling wilderness, alone.

Jaenelle's eyes closed and once again she was sucked into the wails of the innocents, and the rebirth of the land.


	2. Wake Up Call

_Wake up, wake up!_

Phayaton was shoved rudely from her dreams into reality as the early morning light trickled into the room, to play tag upon her features.

_Wake up, wake up._

Lavender orbs flashed as her silver head rose to sniff savagely at the air. The presence was gone, leaving only the scent of a dark jewel in its wake. From this scent Phayaton gathered who had sent the message, but she couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe that _this_ mysterious visitor had called to- of all places- Terrielle, only to wake a Hishiek like herself. Phayaton didn't believe it; she must have been mistaken.

Hishieks, although they now got along well with others, were once feared and exiled. In Old Tongue Hishiek meant the 'Wicked Race', and wicked they once were. During the war, long ago, between the High Priest of Hell and Priestess Hekatah, Hishieks made a very strong ally to _both_ sides. They were traitors that would change face to suite whoever was winning, and in the process destroy and conquer thousands. After the war, the High Priest discovered their treachery and scattered them throughout the lands forbidding them to ever conduct their own Territory.

The Queens, of the lands in which they harbored, did not trust Hishieks so the people did not trust them. The few Hishiek Queens that were born could never have their own court, and the males never held a high rank among any court- no matter how dark their Jewels. Treated badly by the people they were forced to react, so they fought and some killed; many burned down whole villages no longer able to stand the villagers' impertinence. Consequently, many feared them.

Throughout the years the rift has been filled. People have begun to accept Hishieks for who they were and not their history. Many Hishiek are now well-respected Healers within their villages, and- although Queens still go court less- males are upheld for their power. These things came about because people began to forget.

The High Lord of Hell would not be one to forget though, so _Witch_ would never visit one of the 'Wicked Race'.

Forgetting the physic scent Phayaton crawled out of bed, relishing as her bare feet burrowed in the fur lined rug below. It wasn't everyday that she woke up this early, and as she filled a stone basin with warm water she decided it would be fun to go for a stroll. Although Hayll wasn't praised for its scenery, Phayaton had always loved the woods surrounding her house. So after splashing her face and her hands, she pulled on some well-worn trousers and a cotton shirt before heading out the door.

Paths trodden for sixteen years spread out before her like an open map. Picking one Phayaton started forwards, walking blindly through the maze of paths, turning every which way the wind pushed her. At the end of the road a glen spread out before her, beautiful and full of life in the spring air.

Waltzing forward into the fairy circle that was formed by a grove of willow trees, Phayaton stopped in front of a single rose. The plush freshness of the flower enticed her, the smell influencing her to bend down and take a whiff. Aromas filled her tingling every one of her senses and beckoning for her to wake. Delicate was the way to describe it, delicate and beautiful.

Suddenly a wave of nausea hit Phayaton, as images flashed through her mind. Her knees buckled and she found herself on the ground clothed in green grass. The land trembled beneath her sending her twisting and slithering around. It was pulling her yanking her farther and farther into the abyss. Being a Black Widow Phayaton knew the abyss well she had even traveled the Twisted Kingdom once or twice, but this was different. This was suffocating and crushing.

The land was screaming in rage and pain, it was dieing slowly but surely it was dieing. Desolate foreboding filled Phayaton's mind, ripping and tearing through her Yellow barriers, swirling past the Opal through the Green and heading towards her birthright Sapphire. Trusting the land in which she had lived all her life she opened her last barrier and let in her screams.

_"Help me!"_


	3. Tattoos and White Eyes

Disclaimer; I own Hishiek's, all of them, and the plot. The world is Anne Bishops.

_Stepping beyond the swirling mist Phayaton saw a creature fair; a creature with sapphire eyes and a golden mane as hair. "Hush," It said, "Don't you cry. It is yet your time to die." _

_ Searching for words that would not form in her throat left Phayaton dry and searching for more. So It raised a sheathed claw and traced an eye below her bangs on her fore'. It spoke again with clarity, "From Queen to Queen an eye to see and keep thee in sanity."_

_With that Phayaton was yanked into light; a light that blinded oh so bright._

The face, that looked down with blue eyes a worry, was very familiar. In fact it was so familiar that there was no mistaking whose it was; her brother's.

"Oh good you're awake. You sent me through quite a scare you know." There was no mirth in his eyes and only seriousness forebode upon his features. "You are not yet old enough to pay no heed to your brother, and I'm telling you not to go running off like that, least you hurt yourself."

"Pesky toad." Phayaton cursed; she cared not to being chided by Kale, her older bother. "I woke up early and seeing you snoring decided to entertain myself."

"Well," His slender lips parted in rebuke. He was twenty-one now, five years older than she, but she could still sting him with her comments. "You obviously were still plenty tired, because I found you passed out in the glen."

The memory hit her so fast- the rose, the deer, the Mother- that she began to convulse with tears. Kale's previous anger dissipated as he put his arms around her, trying to calm the wrenching girl. "The land! It's dying." Her words were sputtered out between heart-raking sobs. It was hard enough for her to admit these words let alone explain more so she willed herself to become calm, to be collected so she could elaborate.

Kale waited in astonishment as the tears subsided; his sister, now cradled in his arms, was not known to show such weakness so he knew what she had to say was important. So he rocked her back and forth till all the crying had reduced to sniffles. "Now what was it you were saying?"

Phayaton looked at the now caring face, noting the gravity that reigned over it all. His complexion was a natural Hishiek creaminess, his eyes a deep blue; all features meshed together harmoniously from the slightly stubble shaded, square jaw to the defiantly straight, and narrow nose. All but one, a blemish that spread across the whole right side of his face, that began by his finely knit brow and ended by his chin.

It was a birthmark that proved he was Hishiek, for every Hishiek bore a mark, even though all didn't resemble Kale's and most were in places more discrete. Phayaton's was on her hipbone- a sun cusped by a crescent moon with a vine scaling their faces- on display only to herself; a private tattoo.

Now Kale's looked like a snake, and worn upon his cheek announced his courage and pride at birth. It also foretold his attunement to the lands; so Phayaton knew he would not take this lightly. "The land has lost so much energy that it dies as we speak. In order to save itself it is sucking the energy from innocents, making them return to the Darkness before their time."

A frown creased Kale's face and a faraway look shrouded his eyes, "How can you be sure?"

"She spoke to me, she asked for help. I witnessed the power being drained from a new born deer, I'm more than sure."

"Perhaps you were mistaken, you may have been so tired you dreamt it all." He shook his head unbelieving, it wasn't like his sister to make up stories but the Mother would never let such a thing happen.

"The young one speaks true." An ancient voice rang clear through the dwelling that was their home.

Turning, the two siblings looked upon the white haired witch they knew well, who had just appeared from an adjacent bedroom. A white nightgown hung about her feeble body and her pure white eyes stared blankly. Kale was the first to rise unraveling himself from Phayaton. "Mother, please return to bed."

Going towards Darlane- who had raised him and his sister through the veil that was the Twisted Kingdom- he made to guide her back to her room, but he was pushed aside as she headed to the child she preferred more. Phayaton found her cheeks clasped in the pale bony grip of her mother's hands, as she was forced to look into the old colorless eyes. Eyes with irises white like the pupils, eyes completely devoid of any hue, eyes so endless that Phayaton found herself lost. It was a common trait among strong Hishieks, for the less pigment the darker the jewel. Darlane wore her birthright Red as an amulet about her neck, after her offering she could've worn the Black, but she had lost that chance when she found herself trapped in the twisted kingdom.

"You are no child of mine, you come from the whom of the Mother herself. A special daughter, a special Queen." Her mother's words confused her, Phayaton was no Queen she was a Black Widow.

"Go back to bed." Kale rushed forward gathering his mother in his arms who, even though she was only in her late thirties, looked so ancient and weak. "Please, please, mother, say no more."

"Noo!" Darlane kicked and screamed trying to break free. "She has to knoooow!"

"Know what?" They kept secrets from her; her always-serious brother and her crazy mother kept secrets from her. "What are you saying, that I'm a Queen! Kale, tell me, tell me the truth! Please."

"Yes you're a Queen, blood of my blood but more." The raving woman revealed with a shriek. "Help her Kale, instead of hiding her behind your lies."

"Enough! I'll tell her." Instantly the struggle stopped and Darlane slumped in his arms. There was a wicker chair nearby, her favorite, so he sat her in it despite the odd way her head hung forwards. "We were just protecting you." He began lamely, "Hayll has until recently been a bad place for Queens, you know that."

Phayaton had heard rumors but hadn't believed that males would go out of their way to break a witch. Males lived for the day they could serve their Queens with honor. Not knowing where this was heading she nodded.

"Hishieks that were born Queens were used young as playthings which stripped them of their dark jewels. Villagers sometimes gave the Queens up willingly afraid that the they might take up power." That said he paused looking down at his shaking hands, "I didn't want you to end up like mother."

Phayaton looked over at the drooped white head of the witch that could have been so powerful, and the puddle of drool on her lap.

"She chose her fate, to hide away and keep her Red jewels, but I would not let the same happen to you. So I lied, I lied to everyone, even you." His eyes filled with shame as he looked at her.

Acceptance was easy, for that wasn't the main problem here. Phayaton could accept that she was a Black Widow _and_ Queen, but what were they going to do about the land's loss. "What about the land though? What about what I told you?"

"I'll go," Kale took his mother up, her blank eyes falling lifeless on the ground, "To Kaeleer. To the Great Hall and speak with the High Priest of Hell. I'll tell him what you've seen, but you must stay here and safe."

With that decree he vanished into his mother's room and tucked the crazed witch into bed.

_From Queen to Queen; _the words rang in Phayaton's mind and know she understood.


	4. Truce

A/n: This chapter is very hard to write because I know nothing on the location of the Gates. So _please_ don't yell at me. If you have any knowledge please indulge in telling me.

The Gate in Hayll, that used to be in the vicinity of Dorothea's keep, now lay amidst rubble with all things dead around it. A young Priestess new to her trade managed it, but since Dorothea's downfall a host of Blood males was there to assist. A system of checks and balances were put into affect, so that Kale had to endure much inquiry before he could even enter the Alter.

"Kaeleer's been quite popular recently, what business do you have there?" Said the Prince who led Kale into the Alter.

All needed questions were answered and this was just idle chatter, giving Kale the mind to not reply. Protocol got the better of him though so he responded curtly, "Family matters." It wasn't entirely a truth or lie, and he hoped it would ward off any unnecessary conversation.

It didn't. "I hear you man." The man began nonchalant. "I have a mother, and I tell you sometimes it would be easier to wrestle a dragon than listen to her fuss."

Kale found himself staring blankly at the brown hair, which made up the back of his guides head. What an uncaring clot, Kale's anger rose unbridled; Darlane, despite her eccentric ways, was his mother who he respected.

"So that mark, I heard it meant you were a Hishiek." He said the word like a curse. "Is that bull, or what?"

The doors to the Alter opened before him and he glimpsed the dark haired Priestess with in. Kale entered and, as his guide began to close the doors, he retorted, "Or what."

Candles were lit in order, the wall holding the Gate dissolved, and with only a moments hesitation Kale stepped through. The room he found himself in was polished and trimmed with gold; this Alter was much better kept. He breathed in his first breath of Kaeleer and was content.

(Break)

Phayaton drew herself upright, tired of the silence that fell like dew over the house. The cottage she had lived in all her life was small and cozy, lying in a village on the outskirts of Hayll. It had three bedrooms, all but her mother's now unoccupied, a small kitchen, and a sitting room, where Phayaton tried to pass the time. The contents of the sitting room were sparse- a sofa, wicker chair, and a small fireplace was present- but a lowly bookshelf also stood in a corner. So she had spent the day reading through all the Court books brushing up on her useless Protocol, but soon she tired of this. She wanted more.

Throwing a shawl over her blue summer dress, she opened the door and stepped outside. The village, called Tar, spread out pleasantly below her for her house stood on a hill. It was situated just so, that from her house she could see the town but anyone looking up from the village could not see the house. This contemplated Phayaton threw back her head and let out a call that sounded part bird-part wolf. The miller and his son, whom she could see, both raised their heads shading their eyes with their hands. Knowing that they couldn't see her sent her into a fit of laughter.

With that childish trick over and done with, she clicked her heels and descended the strewn path to the village.

"Good-day Prince Haorres." The miller was the first person she met, "Heard any strange birds recently."

He cast her a gleeful look and greeted her with a nod, "Lady."

Tar had been her home as much as her actual house, and she couldn't believe that any of the towns people would have given her over to be broken. Passing the mill she reached the market and followed her usual fancy; shopping. Perusing through the shops she shut out her brother's words, instead to admire a cloth here a broach there- anything to keep her mind preoccupied.

It took her only a moment to realize she was being followed; usually she'd think nothing of it but now when so much has changed. Quickening her steps she darted into a side alley turning to face her foe, the boy that turned into the passage behind her was an old acquaintance. Not particularly a friend but someone she knew none the less; a suitor she had turned down, _many_ times.

"Phayaton, long time no see. Has your brother been keeping you indoors, safe and warm?" The mockery that crossed his face was intended to hurt her but she wouldn't let it.

"What do you want, Lonz?" She felt nervous under his gaze, he had more than once tried to push himself on her and she didn't want it to happen again. Her previous thoughts arose and she wasn't quite certain Lonz wouldn't jump on an opportunity to have her broken, he might even do it himself if given the chance. Then she shook her head, he would never truly hurt her; not like that.

"I've come to see if time has loosened your legs." He took two long strides forward and had her in his arms. She wore the Sapphire and was not afraid of his Opal but he was physically stronger, she could feel the power that pulsed in his sinewy muscles. "Come love, am I so distasteful to the eyes?"

He was older than her and taller, with a tan complexion and dark long hair. His eyebrows were usually arched mischievously and his eyes were golden sparks beneath. Never distasteful to the eyes but the ears begged to differ. "Has my brother's absence finally returned your balls?"

They both knew that he was terrified of Kale, and that the only reason he had stayed away so long was because of Kale's overbearing manner. "Ahha! You're are still as cocky as ever."

"I'm sorry you lack such necessities." She spit back, snapping like a viper.

"Ouch." Lonz withdrew his arms with a look of pain, "What a burn. Alright, to avoid anymore singeing, I propose a truce."

Phayaton was bewildered, had she just heard right, a truce with this self-righteous punk. Glaring at him suspiciously she saw sincerity in his eyes. Still she said nothing.

"A truce that even though you're still a tight-legged ice queen I might have changed, grown-up, and deserve another chance. You should know though that when I say grown-up, I mean just in the tiniest-slightest-way-possible." Smiling in the most charming manner, he extended a hand to close the deal.

_What!_ The mental ability to understand anything shut down in Phayaton's mind, as she stared at the hand offered her. It had been no more than five months since their last meeting, could he really had grown in that time. He looked slightly older; his face had lost all boyishness and his eyes held a mature deepness that wasn't there before. Maybe he had changed, she knew she had. Not only had she shot up a couple of inches and doubled her bust, but she also found herself spending more time in the garden or studying Craft than stirring up trouble like younger kids.

Tentatively she raised her hand, placing it in Lonz's sealing the truce. Quickly before she could object, he raised her hand and kissed her fingers lightly; his lips brushing them like butterfly wings. Their eyes connected and she was suddenly sure of change. The warmth of his hand left her's, and she let her hand fall to her side.

The awkward silence that followed left them uneasy, and neither of them moved fearing to be the one to break it. The silence was unbearable, so a little prudishly Phayaton tugged the metaphorical coat tails of his attention, "Now what? This was _your_ idea."

"I do believe I interrupted you while you were shopping." Giving her a knowing smile he linked arms with her, whisking her onto the street.

(Break)

The High Lord of Hell was an impressive man, Kale thought as he stared up into his powerful golden eyes. From his hair, whitened at the temples, to his legs that despite the cane looked sturdy he held the air of magnificence. Kale felt very shrunk when he noticed the Black Jeweled rings on his fingers, for Kale's Red could never compare. He had always taken pride in his Dark Jewel, despite the fact that his sister would soon wear the Ebon Gray, but now against this awe-inspiring man that wielded the Black he was nothing. A shiver rocked through him.

Casting his eyes down he stared idly at the floor. When the Red Jeweled Butler entered Kale snapped to attention.

"The High Lord will see you now, Prince."

Following the Butler out of the room he took one last lingering glance at the portrait.


	5. A Gift?

Shout outs:

Lady11Occult: Actually Phayaton will never meet Jaenelle but you'll see. (wink wink).

Hytomi: I'm so glad you like it. I've also posted a Black Jewels Trilogy Fanfic _Foramen._ kesterel2106: I'm glad you enjoyed this and later I will explain why it makes sense that the land kills. Sorta. Yeah it is a horrible thing but… it just is.

! Thanks for your support. I'll be updating regularly and already have an ending in mind. Suggestions and constructive criticism is welcome. !

Coins clicked on the counter and Phayaton gathered her packages. Inside were buttons to mend a blouse, seeds for her garden, and lovely purple fabric that she had many plans for. Lonz also had a package but a package but he wouldn't tell her what was in it.

They had passed the day in merry concord but now the sun was setting, and she had to go home. It was her thought that, as she headed up the path to her house, Lonz would follow her, would walk her to the door, say a pleasant goodbye and then leave. The only flaw in her plan was, when they got to her house, he had other ideas.

"Phayaton, I know I've really been a jerk in the past, in fact a real asshole, but I hope your thoughts of me have changed today."

His expression reminded her of a puppy who knew he did wrong but came back to his master anyway. She didn't understand all this; she had no grudge against him just an awareness.

"Lonz, you've committed no crime, no real reason for me to grieve. You just got out of hand sometimes but you've never harmed me."

"I know." He was suddenly so uncertain, and his eyes danced everywhere without resting on her. Maternal instincts kicked in and she found herself reaching out to take his hand. As if woken up from a dream, he looked at her with sudden realization and smiled. "I have something for you. I know it is sort of personal and you might not use it- or like it," He gave up, "Here."

He thrust the parcel at her and she looked at the brown bundle startled; this was surprising, he had never given her a present before. Slowly she unwrapped it, knowing that he watched her with his bright golden eyes. When a glint of silver chain caught her eyes she knew exactly what it was before she pulled it out. It was a necklace with an empty setting meant to hold a jewel; her jewel.

"When you make the Offering," Lonz shrugged, "I thought you might like a new setting, but like I said it is kind of personal. If you don't like it they'll be no hard feelings."

Phayaton wasn't listening though; she was too entranced by the setting that she now noticed on the end of the necklace. It was fashioned into the shape of a sun that shared the same face with a crescent moon, and a bramble bush spread across the center that was to hold up the jewel. It was identical to her birthmark, but how did he know; there was no way he could have known.

Looking up at him she observed that he was staring at her, a smirk scrawled across his face. It was no wonder for she had been standing there, her eyes transfixed on the necklace and her mind completely shut down. She found herself blushing uncontrollably and she never blushed, what was going on.

"I don't know what to say." Honestly she didn't, her mind was a complete blank.

"You're not obligated to say anything." Lonz chuckled at the pretty hue that had risen in her checks.

"I- I love it, it's perfect. Beyond perfect."

"I'm glad. I saw it out of the corner of my and just knew it was for you." They had somehow gotten real close over the course of the conversation, and this closeness caused a hitch in her breath. Suddenly he reached out and fingered a wisp of her hair. "Silver is your color."

He stared at the silver strand in his fingers it was so soft; the rest of her must be soft too he thought. Fingertips traced her jaw, the jaw of a female being a beautiful thing, only to stop at her lips. The touch was light like feather and for a moment, as they looked at each other, Phayaton felt her heart stop and it seemed that his did too. They stayed like this for a while allowing time to pause for an instant; this was too close though and too personal, she didn't like it. As if sensing her discomfort he withdrew his hand and backed away.

To break the silence he brought up an innocent enough topic. "So you'll be making the Offering soon right, I mean you can't wait forever."

He meant nothing by it but Phayaton stiffened despite herself. Know she remembered why she hadn't gone through the Offering yet, two words, Virgin Night. Never being involved with a male she retreated from any contact out of fear, which in fact was silly being that she'd have too one day. Only all the stories she had heard resulted in one thing, males could hurt a witch in more ways than one. A shudder ran through her.

"Lonz- I," She closed her eyes what was wrong with her, "You have to go. Goodbye."

Turning around she cast the hurt look on his face out of her mind, and entered her house. His words echoed in her head though, _"You can't wait forever",_ and she knew she couldn't. Suddenly she noticed that she wasn't the only one in her living room, six pairs of beady black eyes stared up at her.

A/n: To all who didn't read the above shout outs, if you like this story you might want to check out my others. Foramen and Red Jewel are two that you might find interesting. I know this is short but more is to come. Love ya.

Bye, Callie


	6. Conferences

The youth was… notable to say the least. He had crossed a great distance in order to hold this audience with the High Lord, and despite the fact that his eyes screamed terror he was very courageous. Saetan folded his hands on the great oak desk, his analyzing eyes still falling on the young Hishiek. It was clear to anyone who knew of the Hishieks that Kale did not posses a dark jewel, his coloring explained that much. The blond hair and baby blue eyes, although light compared to Saetan's rich coloring, were dark for a Hishiek. The darker features of a Hishiek left them with lighter jewels, Saetan knew that much, which is why he was surprised to see the Red Jewel hanging from the boy's neck. It seemed that the Red was considered light to the Hishieks.

"So tell me," Saetan believed that the foreboding silence had gone on long enough, "What brings you here, Prince Kale?"

An audible sigh was expressed, and a great weight seemed to be dispelled from the Prince. The snake that was etched into his check seemed to soften and become less noticeable as he relaxed. Saetan took great note of this mark, never before had he seen one so exposed, it added to the youth's impressiveness.

"High Lord," Kale's voice was strong, deep, and rich, Saetan was charmed by his valor. "I come on behalf of my sister. For reasons unexplained, she believes the land is in danger, and to save it from destruction the Mother is killing innocents."

Saetan raised a finely shaped brow, musing over the possibilities.

(Break)

"I can't believe this is happening." Phayaton sunk onto the couch and stared at the three deer, the two birds, and the bunny that somehow had crowded into her living room. Her mother, Darlane, turned from scratching the bunny between the ears to met her confused daughter.

"They've come for your protection." The ancient witch stated as if it was as plan as day. "They sense the land is dying and know, under your protection, they won't be harmed."

One of the deer stepped forwards, a stag and obviously the leader, he lowered his head, as if in a bow, before looking at her with surprisingly intelligent eyes. As if on cue, all the rest fallowed example and bent their heads in respect.

Phayaton shifted away from the intimidating beast. "Mother, what is going on?"

"They're Kindred, Blood like we are Blood. Representing their clans they ask for sanctuary in our lands."

Phayaton felt her eyes bulge out of her head; she looked from the stag to the rest, and found herself completely overwhelmed. "Is this some kind of joke, I don't understand." Suddenly catching a glimpse of a Yellow Jewel, that peeked out from beneath the stag's red fur, she began to understand that she wasn't entertaining mere animals. "I didn't mean to seem rude, I'm sorry.I am Phayaton. Prince, what is your name?"

There was a moment of complete serenity, as something seemed to pass by Phayaton, brushing her inner barriers, and then it was gone. However, there seemed to be some silent conversation occurring between the Prince and Darlane. Phayaton watched with curiosity as the two stared at each other; the Prince's small brown eyes exuding knowledge, while Darlane's blank one's gathered it. It lasted only seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime before Darlane turned back to her daughter.

"The Prince is called Argentum, or Silver Tongued. For every word he utters is precious."

Phayaton thought about this, wondering whether he was born with this name or earned it. Deciding on the later, she didn't know what good it would do her since she couldn't hear him. "I don't know how I can help, I just don't understand you or your people. I can't…"

Darlane sprung forward grabbing Phayaton's wrist, dragging her up from the couch and forward, to press her hand into Argentum's red fur. The twisted woman was strong, and under the pressure Phayaton's bones began to jar against one another. "If you can't hear his fears… feel them." With her hand sliding through the glossy fur Phayaton felt a quiver of Yellow power. Her mother pressed her hand deeper into the coat, in pure desperation. "Feel it!"

Argentum held his place, as if understanding the gravity of this situation, and suddenly Phayaton could feel the fear; feel it as if it was her very own. This strong Prince knew that his clan would be lost if they couldn't take sanctuary, he knew that something was happening, and he feared it. He feared the land that he had loved since the moment he had stood on his wobbly, newborn legs. And this fear was great, this fear was treacherous, and this fear would end him if she didn't help.

Phayaton let out a scream, this was too much for her to handle and she sunk to the floor in exhaustion. Above her she could see her mother's face, etched with craziness, and Argentum, strong and noble, peering down at her for answers. "My land will host you." The words fell from her lips, and then everything went dark.


End file.
